


The Ghost of You which haunts me so

by sp0ratixal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, but it's au i guess, not sure what to tag, umm... - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 02:32:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5440205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sp0ratixal/pseuds/sp0ratixal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry was brutally murdered 3 years previous. But Tom is still living his life, and trying his best to cope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ghost of You which haunts me so

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bruisedkneesandfeelings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bruisedkneesandfeelings/gifts).



> Welp, Sorry if the ending makes no sense, but i feel that it was the proper way to end it, seeing as soulmates can somewhat feel eachothers pain.

The wind whistled through the trees and blew hard enough to make them sway ever so slightly. The day was cold, but just perfect for such an occasion. Tom could almost see the snow starting to fall, and it made him smile, because he was really hoping for a white Christmas this year. He never used to participate in things like this but Harry got him into it with just one enthusiastic smile over 5 years ago. Tom couldn’t wait to see him and tell him about all that had happened over the past few years. It was useless to talk to him, that he knew; but it gave him comfort to talk to even just the grave of the one person he had loved the most. The walk towards the cemetery was peaceful, and the view was absolutely beautiful. Tom had always loved winter; it was a time of rest before everything returned to being as it once was. Sometimes Tom felt as though time stood still on days like this, when everything was quiet and peaceful, and the cold made everything feel that much warmer. His steps echoed throughout the empty walkway, but the feeling of being alone with his past lover made him just that much more excited to get there. 

Harry’s grave stood alone, just like he always did when he was still alive. Harry was an independent person just like himself. Maybe that’s why they got along so well. They had a mutual understanding of each other, and they always enjoyed being alone together. Those silent moments together were one of his favorite things to do with Harry. Tom sat down in front of the grave, and put on a smile; the smile that Harry loved so much. 

“Hey Harry, I’m back again this year; happy anniversary love. I just wish you were here to help me celebrate it. I even bought you some flowers, but I forgot them at our home.” Tom laughed, because if Harry was here he would’ve made sure that Tom remembered, and would lightly hit him on the back of the head for forgetting in the first place. Tom’s smile faded and a tear fell down his cheek. 

“I miss you love… It’s been almost two years since you were killed, and I still haven’t found anyone else that can make me as happy as you did.” Tom had tried to find someone else, but to no avail. He went through man and woman alike, but they had all ended up breaking up with him because even they could see that he would never be fully into the relationship. Another tear fell. 

“I remember how you used to tell me that I should find something other than you to make me so happy, but the only thing I had that was a constant that I could rely on was you. I’m still in shock, but I’m trying my best to deal with your death. I even decided to sell our home. I can’t afford to keep it anymore since my income is so much less than yours is. I’ll miss it though… we have so many memories in that home.”

Tom was almost bawling by now. He was so happy to get to see him, but now that he’s here and facing the truth that Harry is dead; his excitement has totally left him. There were so many things he meant to tell him, but he can’t even stand to get out another word. He let out a sob, and he put his head down to the ground. If only he had been home, if only he had remembered to lock the door when he left. It’s all Toms fault, and his decisions have killed the love of his life. His gut wrenched and another sob made it’s way out of Tom’s mouth. Nothing could bring him back his lover, and that fact broke him down every time he went to go visit Harry’s grave. 

Tom sat there sobbing for about another few minutes before he calmed down enough to say a ‘goodbye’ and an ‘I love you.’ He started to make his way back home and instead of being peaceful; the silence seemed lonely. The wind still blew, and Tom ran his hands through his hair to smooth it down, only for the wind to blow it back up again. It was useless, just like the life that he was currently living. Nothing seemed to matter anymore after Harry died, but at the same time, everything seemed more important. Harry had always told him to enjoy the small things in life, even if it all seemed bleak. Oh how Tom tried his best to live by those words. He was trying even now to enjoy enough to make him want to keep on living. He enjoyed the feeling of the wind; he enjoyed how he could always get back on his feet after falling down, both metaphorically and physically. He enjoyed the good memories that he had of being with the love of his life, and he enjoyed the friends that Harry had introduced him too. There was so much left to life, and he was grateful that Harry taught him that before his life was so savagely taken away from him. 

Tom finally approached the turn to his street, and he paused for a second. This was the place where he had gotten the news, and this is the place where he ran all the way home to see his lovers body lying there on the floor of their kitchen. Tom felt the sadness start to creep back up his throat, but he forced himself not to cry. He took a deep breath and made his way to the small home that Harry and him had shared for all those years. The door was unlocked, Tom had forgotten once again. He took off his shoes and made his way towards the kitchen. He pulled out a bottle of champagne and walked to his room. The bottle was gone by the end of the night; Tom had never had much willpower when it came to stopping himself from drinking. He had passed out by 9:30 that night, only to wake up crying, the feel of Harry’s skin on his still lingering from his previous dream. Tom wiped his eyes and got up. The time is 3:39 am, and Tom’s head was absolutely pounding. He grabbed and aspirin and tried to get himself back to sleep, but with no results. I wish I could wrap my arms around him and comfort him. Too bad I’m only a whisper of what I once was, and can only silently watch him destroy himself, and feel his pain.


End file.
